The other day our friend Tim came for a visit. It was fun. We somehow went to the same little diner for both dinner and breakfast. We talked about his visit to the Republic of Georgia, the great state of Florida, and the country we are both interested in: Honduras, and what I am learning.

When people ask me “why Honduras,” or if God “called me there,” my answer is simply, “no, not really.” The truth is, Honduras did not seem all that exciting or intriguing to me. It was nothing extremely foreign compared to other places I’ve been or now would like to adventure to. So without offending Honduras, I wasn’t called there. I was called to Nelle.

In Annapolis I clearly heard God whisper, “look for mothers.” I have a wonderful mother. I adore her, and she me. But, I listened and kept my eyes open. In walks Nelle — and off I go to Honduras. It was really just for fun, and because Nelle had invited me. Why not? I had scrounged up the money and got the time off from work. It would only be 10 days. Yet, within two days of being there I knew something was different — this was not a typical non-profit or NGO. I felt surrounded by family — tough family. They’re sell-outs, revolutionaries.

But most of all, they know Jesus. I felt him — my spirit sensed him…walking around in the dirt. I’ve always been convinced that Jesus is found more easily in the dirt than the palace anyway. After returning to Annapolis with a renewed curiosity as to who Jesus actually is (as a person, not a theology), I again heard him whisper, “Do you want to come join me?” Within a month I had quit my job, transferred my lease, given away most of my possessions, and had a one-way ticket to West Palm Beach. If I was going to work under Nelle, I needed to live near her. Funny thing is, I became her neighbor. If there was any question that God was opening a door, it was answered in the bizarre way I was put right next door to Nelle. No One else could have orchestrated such a perfect move.

I have had a grand total of four trips to Honduras since February. Each time actually gets better — mostly because my relationships with the kids and mentors have had a chance to develop. It has become more painful as well, after developing attachments to people that live in the brutality of the third world. In many ways it’s all been a blur—I’ve been fully engrossed in learning the culture, rekindling the language, and simply adapting to a new rhythm of life. So, when Tim asked me, ‘what have you been learning?’— it took me a minute.

On my first trip to Honduras my American friends and I were taught the 5 principles and the pictogram that goes along with them. All of the tutoring/mentoring centers focus on the principles and pictogram everyday- they’re the foundational building blocks.

Maybe you already know these, but for those that don’t, here are the 5 principles the kids live according to. They seem simple, and they are. But each one can have incredible depth if you’ll go there.

1. We are a family, a network of friends, brothers and sisters, following Jesus.

2. The gospel is a person, and that person is Jesus.

3. Our purpose is to love God and love others as ourselves.

4. The work of God is to believe — to put faith in Jesus for everything.

5. The most important person for us to reach is ourselves.

We were encouraged to ask the kids questions regarding the principles — testing to see if they knew and understood them. When I asked a little boy, probably 8 years old, “What is the Gospel,” he looked me in the eye and answered, “The gospel is a person, and that person is Jesus.” His answer hit me like a bag of bricks: The Gospel is a Person. That’s what I’m learning. I wasn’t drawn to work with Jose and Nelle because I thought I had much to offer, but simply because I felt the person Jesus there. After all, the Pharisees were the most religious in their day; they prayed and fasted, studied scriptures and obeyed the Law, yet they completely missed who the person Jesus was. I’d rather not.

Maybe it’s selfish. I choose to hang out with the poor because I see Jesus walking among them. I become richer. I’m part of a great new family — a network of friends, brothers and sisters, following Jesus.

So, that’s what I get to do. I spend time in Honduras with a new family getting to know Him, to learn who He is and what He wants to do in Honduras.

After that first trip, I felt Jesus give me a personal invitation to join what He’s doing in Honduras; now He’s qualifying me to work alongside Him. This change in no way feels successful or like I’m making progress — it feels uncomfortable and disheartening at times because I am becoming more and more aware of my own baseness, my lacking. But He shows me mercy, it’s his grace that makes it possible to look at the mess sitting in my lap and not want to run away and ignore it (as I have before). Something in me knows he can handle it, that he can take it. But first, I have to take a good look and remember it so I won’t come back to it.

I am learning to die. It’s not fun- kind of painful really. I’m confessing my mess; I’m making room for Him to replace it with better things. I’m stripping off flesh- becoming more of a skeleton so He can come and be the muscle. It goes against my nature. Jose and Nelle tell me “It’s all going to be OK, but kiss yourself goodbye!” I’m learning true humility- and that “blessed are the poor spirit, for theirs is the Kingdom of Heaven” (Matt. 5:3). That’s what the Honduran kids have taught me.